Hatter
by Cliche77
Summary: After a mysterious fixture in Shawn's past comes to light, the SBPD will have to make an exception- just this once. But can everyone get along, or will they miss the clues under their very eyes? Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I'm here again. This story is the unofficial sequel to a story called "What He Didn't Say..." by the wonderful Bates at Psychfic. ****The first part of the chapter is the original work. I own nothing, especially "What He Didn't Say..." Or Psych... Yet. Mwahahahahahaha! Enjoy!**

**Update: I just realized that Bates is here, too. Oops...**

_They were in Mexico. Again._

Gus knew it even before he opened his eyes. It was the sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, the knowledge that he'd been knocked unconscious, and the sour residue of alcohol in his mouth that gave it away.

Opening his eyes, Gus found only darkness, which, considering the hangover he could already feel tearing his ordered brain into chaos, was probably a good thing.

... Or at least it would have been.

You see, for Gus, waking up to complete darkness meant two things:

1. Shawn had kidnapped him.

2. He (and normally Shawn) had been kidnapped and was/were currently blindfolded. Most likely tied to a chair or a table or other seemingly harmless household furniture. (Except for the komodo dragon incident. Waking up to that... That was not fun. Not really. Not until you can look back and say "I rode a komodo dragon blindfolded and still have all my limbs." Then you really deserve a good laugh. You've earned it.)

Strangely enough, until recently, that normally meant they had ended up in Mexico. Even now, chances were that Shawn would be the one kidnapped and Gus would sit in the Psych office worrying until Shawn somehow got out of it with those unbelievable talents of his. Gus had been best friends with Shawn for more than twenty years now (man, that thought made him feel old!) and Shawn still managed to surprise him.

One thing that was no longer a surprise was waking up in Mexico. Gus could only hope it wasn't human slave traffickers this time.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps beside him. Gus turned his head, only now realizing he had probably been drooling onto the carpet that was smashed up against his face, and listened.

"It's good to see you, Brother. Sorry about the whole firefight, flash-bang thing earlier. If I'd have known it was you, I would have waited until I could, as they say, 'see the whites of your eyes...'"

There was a brief pause.

"...and then I would have shot you repeatedly point blank in the occipital lobe region," the voice was monotone, and kind of freaky. Gus held his breath and stayed as still as possible. Shawn would get them out of this somehow... or get them killed.

"Good thing your Burton's unconscious, or I would have enjoyed chopping him to pieces and hearing him scream... But, that would be cliche, so it wouldn't work. I'm a nonconformist. That means the black guy doesn't always have to die first. "

Gus tried to speak, but his mouth didn't seem to be working properly quite yet. It's the blondes, he struggled to protest.

Shawn's voice wasn't even strained, it was as if they were old friends catching up. "Seriously, Hatter? Seriously? Are you off your meds? The blondes are always the first to go. There's even a facebook group... Anyways, you know you need me. Besides, Gus is going to wake up soon, and I know you don't play well with others."

A deep chuckle resounded. "I did hit him pretty hard though, we should be fine. No outsider will disturb us. Even if anyone did, I would take joy in killing them..."

His voice was gleeful as he paused, presumably caught up in a sick fantasy. Gus was not at all reassured by this. In fact, this might even be worse than the komodo dragon.

Shawn just snorted. "Dude, you need to work on your evil villain lines. I thought I'd trained you better than this!"

"How about: nobody but the mail man's come around for weeks, and I accidentally ate him last week."

How can you accidentally eat someone? Gus wondered.

"That's better, but what have I told you about cannibalism, Hatter?"

"I know, I know," the strange voice growled. Gus could almost see him shrugging. "Cannibalism is not the way to solve your problems. Talk it out. Blah, blah, blah."

Shawn gave what sounded like a huff of impatience. "Why do you always have to kill people whenever you have a temper tantrum? Why can't you act like a normal villain and rob a bank or something?"

There was a pause then Shawn spoke again. "Hatter," he sounded absolutely exasperated. "you didn't kidnap me just because you were lonely again, did you? Come on, I know you have my cell..."

"Nope..."

"Alright! I was bored! And I missed your hair!"

"Do some dastardly plotting, next time! I do have a life outside of chasing you down, you know."

"It isn't fair! Ever since you went back to Santa Barbara and started that ridiculous psychic detective agency you spend all your time with Guster putting away petty thieves and other riff-raff when you could be playing games with me! We're brothers. You're the other side of my coin, your mind is the perfect compliment for mine, and our games are always so compelling..."

It was a soft whisper, almost indiscernible. The voice trailed off and Gus felt himself tense up. This guy was absolutely insane. Yin crazy. No, Yang crazy.

"Hatter," Shawn sighed, speaking quietly as if to a child. "I know that half those 'petty thieves' and that 'riff-raff' only came to Santa Barbara under your orders anyway. As you said, I'm your other half, and I know better than to think a city our size would just happen to attract serial killers and master thieves like Australia attracts wallabies. You've been so obvious. I'm actually a bit disappointed. Now let me and Gus go, and I promise on the Pineapple gods never to break the rules of the game again." Gus strained his ears to hear the reply.

"If you insist, Shawnie," It came out in a huff, like an apology from a reluctant child. "But remember, even if you won't admit it, you need me. Without me, you'd be bored," the tone had changed from that of a petulant kid to an eerie sing-song tone that put Gus on edge. Gus unconsciously shifted and the room grew silent, the atmosphere suddenly frigid.

"Toodledoo, Shawnie! Have fun in Mexico. Don't forget to call next time you're bored and need a good serial killing to spice up your day! I'll be watching you!" Footsteps retreated into the distance.

There was a moment of silence then a distant shout. "And feel free to call collect. I have unlimited!"

"Bye, Hatter! You know you won't get away with this!" Shawn yelled back, almost cheerily.

"Bye, Shawn! Have fun escaping after I set the lair on self destruct! I left some pineapple on the counter for you to grab on your way out. I'm off to steal the crown jewels to crown Jules. And don't pretend you don't know that I know that you know I know about the ring!" For half a second, there was silence and Gus relaxed, thinking the man was finally gone...

"You have ten minutes! Oh, and the Senator's assassination, that was me."

Then he really was gone.

"I knew it!" Shawn exclaimed.

Gus, utterly confused at this point, heard Shawn attempt to muffle his laughter.

"Arch enemies... You can't live with 'em, and you can't live without 'em."

Surprised, Gus took this chance to speak, his vocal chords finally fully functional.

"Arch enemies?" His voice seemed to loud to his ears and his voice seemed to be an octave higher than its usual.

"Yeah," Shawn sighed. He didn't seem at all surprised that Gus was awake.

"Since when do you have an arch enemy?"

Gus could almost hear Shawn's eyes rolling. "Hatter's always been there. Come on, think, Gus! A guy with hair like mine has to have an arch enemy. Some people just can't control their envy."

Gus was confused.

Shawn was hungry.

So, excluding the fact that Shawn apparently had an arch enemy and they were in a building rigged to self destruct, everything was totally normal.

After that though, Gus paid more attention. And he wasn't surprised to see the newspaper article the next day about the mysterious disappearance of the crown jewels. And he didn't miss the way Shawn snorted just a bit when the story hit the news. Or the fact that every where they went, security cameras seemed to magically follow all of their movements.

Eventually, it just became a slightly disturbing fact of life. Hatter was simply Shawn's criminally inclined stalker.

And then one day there was an incident with a mysterious text message, an exploding bridge, a prison break, and the sudden appearance of a few dozen baby wallabies. But that, my friends, is a different story...

** THIS IS THAT STORY.**

_Two years later:_

Shawn and Gus were driving along the highway in the Blueberry after a late night taco celebration. They had just caught a serial arsonist targeting small rented office buildings- like Psych. Shawn had figured it out just in time to stop the utter ruin of their workplace. So, the two had decided that deserved an extra treat.

There they were: a fake psychic detective and a real pharmasudical salesman on a deserted stretch of bridge at 11:09 PM. Both the passenger and the driver were ready to go to bed for the night. Alas, sleep was not to come.

The pineapple- obsessed man riding shotgun's phone beeped loudly in the silent confines of the car. He quickly checked his text messages and found a new one from an unknown caller- or texter, as the case may be. The message read:

_Hello, Shawn. It would behoove you get off this bridge- now. You__ know who I am._

Gus did not see the warning. The only indication out of the ordinary was his best friend's clipped, yet humorous, as if he was reprimanding a child that in his view had erred and still done well, tone as the brown haired psychic detective told him to park at the side of the road. Something in Shawn's voice warned him not to argue- for now. And it was well that he obeyed, for a split second after Gus eased his foot off the gas pedal, a fiery explosion lit up the night sky.

**And so there you go! I will update as soon as I can, which probably will not be soon. But a girl can dream, right? I'll see you guys later! I still own nothing!**

**PS: I highly recommend reading the original story at a link that I will post on my profile.**

**PPS: It is chapter seven.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Psych.**

Shawn Spencer slid in and out of consciousness, blearily hearing snippets of conversation:

"He'll be fine-"

"Their car has been towed-"

"What do you mean I'm out of eggs?"

"There's a shooting tournament on Saturday. Can you come?"

"Emergency on De Las Vinas Street!"

And most clearly, the faux psychic heard the words

"Shawn! Wake up!"

He clung to those three words, or eleven letters as he mused absentmindedly- and why was he even counting the letters? Why did he even _care_?- holing on to his Juliet's voice, like, well, an unconscious man trying to wake up. It occurred to him that that might have been a bad analogy. He shook his head to clear it of all his unwanted thoughts.

The injudicious movement caught Lassiter's attention.

"So the sleeping beauty awakes," he grumbled sourly. The Chief and his partner had straight- armed him into staying with the annoying manchild and his slightly less annoying sidekick when he would much rather have left to investigate a possible breakin a few streets away or the mass prison break at the low security correctional facilility.

"I always knew you cared," mumbled the "sleeping beauty" in question. He was very disoriented and concerned about his friend. Gus had been in the driver's seat, thus receiving the full force of the blast. And why would a bridge that was perfectly stable, until it, well, exploded even explode in the first place?

Shawn Spencer was reeling with so many questions that it felt like his brain might make like Arlington bridge... That is to say, blow up until even fragments were nowhere to be found.

So he decided to sit up. It was really the only thing to do in that situation.

"You're okay!" Juliet exclaimed. She thought that it might have been a little stupid to say, but it was really the only thing that _she_ could say in her present situation.

"I'm fine," assured Shawn. "Where's Gus?"

"Over here," the previously referred to to pharmasudicals salesman mumbled. After hitting his head, he had gained the migraine of a century. But wasn't about to complain; Lassiter already thought he was a wimp. Besides, there might be something left in his case he could use.

The throbbing pain in Gus's head was making it hard to think. He blearily focused on the ongoing conversation, or rather argument, taking place between Shawn, Lassiter, and Juliet.

"It could be a threat. Just let us trace the number!" She pleaded.

"She does have a point," Lassiter pointed out.

"just because someone sent me a text message that saved my life does _not_ mean that that someone is working with the arsonist!"

"What arsonist?" Gus asked. He felt a need to join the conversation.

"The one who blew up the White House," Lassiter answered sarcastically. But that choice bit of speech passed Gus by.

"The White House blew up?!" Gus exclaimed in a panic.

"No! The arsonist that blew up the bridge!" Juliet was reaching the end of her tether dealing with... them.

All this time, Shawn had been scrolling through his text messages.

"You can trace it all you want," he answered despondently. "The number's blocked. What was this I heard about the Blueberry?"

"It's in the shop," Juliet replied, rising to her feet and dusting off her pants. "We'll take you there, but one way or another, that number _will_ be ran through the system." And with that threat, she strode off.

**Hi guys! Just for the record, De Las Vinas Street is a real street in Santa Barbara and Arlington is a town in Texas. **

**Sorry for the super short chapter, but I've been really busy at school and I wanted to start a poll. So everyone, please vote on what should happen to the Blueberry! And as always, please update! I need at least some votes in the poll to continue! Cliche out! Wow I am using a lot of exclamation marks!**

**Update: I'm sorry I have to do this, guys, but this story will be on hiatus until someone votes in the poll by way of leaving a review or PMing me. The choices are:**

**1) The Blueberry is perfectly fine.**

**2) The Blueberry is damaged beyond repair.**

**3) The Blueberry needs a paint job and is scratched and dented, but is still able to be driven.**

**I am thinking about starting a Percy Jackson fic, so I will be working on that until I get some feedback.**


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